Back Ache
by Eleviel of LothLorien
Summary: Dean has an ache in his back that he just can't shake. A slip in the shower causes Cas to appear and help him out.


**I'm not American and I tried to write 'ass' but I'm sorry I just couldn't. So suffer through my Australian spelling of the word for bottom and not donkey (ass means donkey in Aus and I assume anywhere else).**

* * *

Dean Winchester woke up with a persistent ache in his back. It wasn't some unnatural occurrence – hey, they hunted freaking monsters for a living – but it was downright annoying. It had started preventing him from taking the really big leaps and the high climbs because, well, it just wasn't worth the pain.

So Dean Winchester woke up with a persistent ache in his back. He groaned as he pushed the scratchy motel sheets off his legs and then pressed a palm to the source of the pain to stifle some of it. When that didn't work – he didn't really expect it to, but… - he ran the hand back up to his face and rubbed it over his jaw.

"Hello Dean."

"Shit, Cas. You can't fucking _do _that!" Dean exclaimed, jumping from the bed in anger – surprise – when the angel appeared. He was always doing this. Popping up out of nowhere just to freak Dean the fuck out. Seriously, what was wrong with using the perfectly good hand attached to the end of his perfectly good arm to knock on the freaking door?

The angel tilted his head, pondering Dean's outburst as if it were the first to occur, when in reality this happened every bloody time.

Cas stood with both feet pressed into the carpet at a slight angle that, if one looked close enough, might suggest that he was hesitating on coming closer to Dean. He had is hand down by his sides, just itching to push into those trench coat pockets, and his hair was ruffled so that it appeared just this side of sexy.

"I do not understand. What should I prevent myself from doing?" He tilted his head to the side, so far that it was pretty close to his shoulder, and Dean knew that if he went over there and grabbed that dark mess of hair, well, Cas wouldn't complain.

"Popping in here out of the blue at—" Dean glanced over at the neon clock glowing on the table next to his bed. "—Seven forty-seven on a _Saturday_ morning. I was sleeping!"

Cas glanced over at the other queen bed, "Sam isn't here. He must be awake."

"Sam, what, just." Dean flustered for words, running his hands through his bed head and grimacing at the smell wafting up from his exposed armpits. "He's on his morning run and—Oh, you know what, I'm gonna have a shower. And then, _after_, we can talk some more. So…" He waved his hands in a shooing motion. "Skedaddle."

Cas shrugged and then… poof.

Dean turned towards the direction of the bathroom, shucking his worn tee shirt and boxers as he went. Turning the taps and stepping under the spray was always one of the best moments in his life, but with this freaking backache, the most enjoyable activities were becoming the most painful.

Just the act of reaching over to the taps and then the jolt of pressure when they finally budged from their rusted positions sent pain travelling down his spine and then focusing at that point. He stepped over into the shower and as his foot hit the slick tiling it slid a little, forcing him to brace on the wall, which cause _another_ spurt of pain.

"Shit," Dean whimpered into the arm braced against the wall, he mouthed at the muscled skin to stifle the gasp of pain. Then his hand slipped. And Dean fell to the floor, which, in the grand scheme of things, was probably not the worst thing to happen, but God the pain was tremendous.

"Is my assistance required?" The deep and familiar voice of heaven's favourite angel was there to remind Dean of just how deep in the shit he really was.

"Fuck, Cas. Please." Dean reached his hand up blindly, his eyes screwed shut in pain. When Cas pressed his soft palm to Dean's calloused one, Dean had to force himself to breathe. "Can you make it go away?"

"Yes. But… it can be… awkward."

"In what way—actually, I don't even care. Just fucking do it. I am sick of this." Dean still had his eyes shut so he wouldn't have noticed the change of scenery if he hadn't felt the soft press of the worn mattress against his stomach. Before he knew it, he was sighing and relaxing into the cold sheets.

"Stay still." Cas muttered as he climbed onto the bed behind Dean. Then, bracing himself, he pulled each leg over each side of Dean's lean body and sat down on his exposed thighs.

And that was the moment that Dean remembered that he was naked. And that Sam could come in from his morning run at _any moment_. He struggled against Cas, pushing his back up so that he would be able to flip them over and get out from the position. But all it did was press Dean's _naked_ arse into Cas' clothed groin. And cause pain to go searing to that spot again.

"Dean." Cas said tersely, and Dean could almost swear that there was the hint of a groan edging around the corners of his voice.

"Just fix it, Cas. And then let me up. Sam could walk in at any point."

"You are correct." And with that, Cas pressed his palms to Dean's upper back and began to rub them down towards the centre of the pain.

Dean moaned into the mattress and pushed his groin downward, partly to hide his growing erection and to ease some of the pressure. Good _God_ that felt freaking amazing, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to control his wanton moans.

And then Cas stepped up his game. Energy and light began to pulse out from beneath his hands, pushing into Dean's body and healing the torn and frayed muscle below. To help with this, and to hold Dean steady, Cas was forced to push into Dean's thighs with his own, causing his own disobeying cock to rub against Dean's arse.

"Shit, Cas." Dean said in a completely different tone to what he had exclaimed not half an hour earlier. "Do that again."

"This?" Cas said as he pushed his hands into the source of Dean's previous pain – it had almost completely dissipated.

"No, you arse-hole. The _other_ thing." To help explain, Dean rubbed his bottom up against Castiel's erection, causing them both to moan.

"I can do that," Cas muttered as he removed his hands from Dean's back, only to replace them with his tongue. Swivelling it over the warm skin, he ran his now unoccupied hands up to Dean's hair, raking them through it and pressing his tongue in deeper.

Dean bucked up again, and the groan that escaped his lips could have put casa erotica actors to shame. All too soon the meagre friction of bare bum against clothed erection was not enough and Dean was _forced_ to flip himself under Cas' wilful tongue.

"Take these off," He muttered into Cas' ear, which was no just above his mouth. In a flash – bloody angel mojo – Cas' clothes were gone and they were frantically rubbing themselves off.

Cas groaned out several variations of Dean's name and a few curses in Enochian, but they all sent shivers down to Dean's toes, curling them and setting his groin on fire.

Cas blew warm breath across Dean's ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. Dean reacted to this by shoving his hips against the angel's and using his free hands to press Castiel's arse closer, pushing their cocks together.

"More, Cas." Dean managed out on a gasp, the words coming out mangled and almost unrecognisable.

Cas nodded, releasing Dean's ear. He ran his hand down to their erections and gripped them both in his hand. Dean reached over into the duffle bag under the bed and procured a small disposable packet of lube. He handed it to Cas, who upended it over their joint dicks and then proceeded to rub.

He slicked them up and then used both hands to grip them, encouraging Dean to push up into the ring he had made with his agile fingers. The friction of cock on cock caused Cas to groan a few more words in Enochian, which Dean had to strain to hear and even that was a challenge because the pleasure was so overwhelming.

Suddenly Dean was climaxing, pushing frantically into Cas' hand and then coming all over their chests, pressed together and sticky. The energy at which Dean had orgasmed caused Cas to experience his own miraculous pleasure; mixing his own seed with that of the man he had saved.

Dean glanced down at their white-covered abdomens and then back up at Cas' bright blue eyes. Hesitating only once, he pressed his lips to the angel's, striving for quick and chaste; an acknowledgement of the joy of a shared orgasm. But it soon enough turned into an all-out tongue battle between the two. Each trying to outdo the other in the number of groans/moans/mutterings and whatnot that they caused their partner to produce.

And then the door to the small – and now sex-smelling – room.

Sam rounded the door, pulling his ear buds out of his ears and then bringing his gaze up to the naked couple under the sheets.

"Oh, ah, I'll just go."

"Yeah, you do that, Sammy." Dean glanced at Cas, "Me and 'im will be here a while yet."

Sam turned beet red and slammed the door behind him as he went to wash his _eyes_ out with soap.


End file.
